The Summer of the Selfless - 2. Chapter 2

And so began the dying days of middle school.

The third-year students veered between anxiety over the final exams, which still stood between them and their school diploma, and excitement over the leavers’ disco and the school holidays still to come: three whole months of total freedom amidst the endless days, blue skies and soporific heat of the summer.

The school that had been Daniele’s home from home for three years was a sleek, modern building, carefully concealed behind a high stone retaining wall just off the quiet end of Via Roma, the town’s narrow central shopping street. Down among the older buildings, tourists would be coming and going from the restaurants and boutiques that lined the narrow old alleyway, oblivious to the mundane reality of education taking place only a few metres away.

It was only a small school, with one class per year group, and the facilities were shared with the primary school kids. The different age groups took it in turns to use the limited outdoor space, which consisted of a small playground and a picnic terrace shaded by a single, tall umbrella pine. Somewhere in the same building, Reza and Tiziana’s little boy Sami would be learning basic arithmetic, simple science and a little bit of conversational English, while Daniele wrestled with trigonometry, with its tirade of troublesome triangles; French, with its baffling array of silent letters and irregular verbs; and chemistry, which had never delivered the flashes, bangs and explosions promised by the comics.

For his part, Daniele was more at home with history, social studies and Italian, which played into his flair for people and his love of words and stories. Marco favoured art but, due to his very deft fingers, he also did well in music and technology. Emilia, driven hard by pushy parents, performed exceptionally well in English and biology; she aspired to a career in medicine. Luca, meanwhile, displayed a rare talent for geography and also did well in the sciences. Finally, Giacomo seemed to be an all-rounder, performing adequately in most subjects, but never seeming to specialise.

As the end of term beckoned, the teachers did their best to keep the kids focused on their revision, but they seemed to realise they were fighting a losing battle. Daniele, who was lucky enough to sit next to one of the big, bright windows that ran down one side of the classroom, often found himself staring out of it; but the teachers, who had always been fond of him, never gave him any grief about it. Once or twice, when the class were working independently, he had even caught a couple of his teachers having a quick stare out at the blue spring sky themselves. If they noticed him watching, it was usually worth a guilty smile in his direction.

Daniele’s classroom neighbour and usual study partner was Giacomo, which was a happy, if occasionally distracting, state of affairs. Marco and Emilia sat behind them; even though Emilia was dating Luca, who sat on the far side of the room, she had stubbornly refused to desert Marco in class, for which Daniele was grateful. If he had been forced to choose between his two best friends, his natural desire to avoid hurting anyone’s feelings would have been stretched to breaking point.

At lunchtimes, they would hang out on the picnic terrace together, picking listlessly at their packed lunches and occasionally swapping bits of them, enjoying the last of their time together as a group. It felt like the true end of an era, because, in the autumn, the streamed nature of the Italian school system would begin to split them up.

The nearest high schools were in the seaside town of Amalfi. Emilia and Luca, the highest achievers among them, were due to go to the liceo to study the sciences. Daniele had long felt that Marco should be going to art college, but the nearest institution was in Salerno, and neither Marco’s birth parents, nor his present carers Gianni and Angelo, had the means to transport Marco to and from the city every day or put him up for board there. Instead, Marco would be joining Daniele and Giacomo at the istituto tecnico to receive a more basic secondary education whose main purpose seemed to be to pump out the next generation of tourism professionals.

Daniele’s parents, Patrizia and Paolo, had urged him to consider whether he should be going to the liceo himself to study languages and maybe progress to University, but he had assured them that he didn’t mind going to technical school. Over the four years since their move from Milan, he had taken root in Ravello, and he was in no hurry to leave. Daniele’s friends also meant a lot to him and, as he assured his parents, it was enough for him that he would get to remain with them for another few years. He would cross all other bridges when he came to them.

* * *

Friday arrived, bringing the start of the holidays one step closer. When, at last, the final bell rang, signalling that the penultimate week of school was over, Daniele and Giacomo slipped out together on an important errand.

Daniele and his friends had always maintained a secret place in the Valle del Dragone that belonged just to them. To date, Luca had never been invited to join them there, but he and Emilia and been together for more than six months now, and they had all agreed that the time was right for an initiation. Daniele and Giacomo had offered to go for snacks.

Hitching their school bags up onto their shoulders, they set off up Via Roma, passing an ancient church and then Da Rossi, the restaurant belonging to Angelo’s older brother Pietro and Gianni’s cousin Anna. Because of their close ties to the family, Daniele and his friends could normally count on a discount if they went there for a takeaway meal.

Now they were free of the classroom and the watchful eyes of their classmates, Daniele gave Giacomo a sideways look, taking in everything he saw. Fortunately for them, their school had no uniform code, and they were free to express themselves how they wanted. The tie-dye t-shirt Daniele had picked this morning was a muted blue; Giacomo, however, was turned out in classic style, and was wearing a sporty, navy and white bomber jacket open over a red fitted t-shirt.

Giacomo smiled slightly as he caught him looking.

“What?” he asked.

“You know what,” Daniele grumbled. “Don’t make me say it.”

Giacomo nudged him playfully with his shoulder. “Never change, Dani.”

“You like me checking you out?” Daniele asked incredulously.

“It doesn’t suck,” Giacomo admitted.

Daniele frowned as he reflected on the other boy’s words.

But why, Giaco? What do you get out of it?

Beyond the restaurant, Via Roma narrowed right down, becoming the characteristic, tight little alleyway that wound between the dense cluster of whitewashed buildings at the heart of town, even passing beneath some of them. What could so easily have been a gloomy place was transformed by the bright, welcoming lights of the shops that lined the little street, most of which catered to the tourist trade, but some of which still provided for local needs, including a bank; a tabacchi selling cigarettes, newspapers, postage stamps and bus tickets; and the grocery store where they were now headed.

As usual, the proprietor, Salvatore Friuli, was manning the shop on his own. Salvatore was a tall, thin man with a tired and careworn look about him. Now in his early fifties, there were flecks of grey in his short black hair, which rose severely from a widow’s peak in the centre of his forehead. Salvatore could be dour, at times, but Daniele knew he had had a difficult life and forgave him for it.

Salvatore’s wife had died when their son Toto was only a toddler. Sacrificing many of his dreams, Salvatore had concentrated on putting food on the table and bringing his son up with a strong sense of right and wrong. His success had been proven the year before, when Toto had teamed up with the reformed bad boy Enzo Palmeri to fight back against Ettore Neri’s amateur protection racket. If it hadn’t been for the older boys’ timely arrival, Daniele and Giacomo’s final encounter with the criminals might have ended very differently.

The store, which seemed gloomy compared to the bright sunlight that filtered down into the narrow street outside, was a veritable treasure trove, stacked floor to ceiling with shelves of fresh, dried and preserved ingredients. Salvatore gave them a courteous nod from behind the old wooden counter.

“Ciao, signore,” Daniele ventured.

“Buonasera, Daniele,” Salvatore replied. “And Giacomo, I believe?”

Giacomo nodded politely. “Sì, signore. Buonasera.”

“What can I help you with today?”

Giacomo grinned. “Snacks, please, and lots of them.”

The corners of Salvatore’s narrow mouth quirked in a weary sort of smile. “Help yourselves.”

Daniele and Giacomo rootled around the store, coming up with a net of cheese portions, a tray of apricot croissants, a pack of chocolate biscuits and a large bag of potato crisps. After a moment’s thought, Giacomo added a six pack of Coca-Cola from one of the shelves. Daniele gave him a curious look, to which the other boy responded with an enigmatic smile.

“Of course, the glass bottles are prettier to look at,” Salvatore observed, “but we do have some cold cans in the drinks cabinet that might suit you better…?”

Giacomo shook his head. “No, thanks, signore,” he replied. “I definitely want the glass ones.”

Salvatore shrugged and helped them to bag the shopping. They split the bill, then continued along the narrow, cobbled street to the cathedral square. It was the last day of May, meaning that it was literally the eve of the summer; and, as the town baked its way through the hottest part of the day, the pace of life in the square was gentle.

High up in the umbrella pines, the cicadas were in full voice again, scraping raucously amidst the dark green pine needles. Most of the pigeons had retreated to the cathedral belfry, which offered some respite from the sun. The bars were busy with a mix of visitors and locals, most of whom had picked tables under the shade of the giant parasols, where they sipped on soft drinks, mineral water or the occasional beer. A few people came and went from the side doors of the cathedral, which looked invitingly cool inside, or lurked at the railings overlooking the valley, enjoying the view under the shade of the pine trees.

“Soon, Dani,” Giacomo said, gesturing out at the square with his free hand. “Just five days to go.”

“Aren’t you stressed about the final exams?” Daniele asked.

Giacomo shook his head. “Nah, I’m okay. You?”

“Not exactly losing sleep over them,” Daniele admitted.

Giacomo smirked slightly. “Cool. There are more fun things to lose sleep over, don’t you think?”

He flicked his eyebrows suggestively at Daniele, who giggled in spite of himself.

“Grow up, Giaco,” he said.

“Not if I can help it,” Giacomo replied. “I… oh, hello…!”

A familiar figure was slouching into the square from the leafy stairway that led down to the public car park below. Now aged twenty, he still resembled the disaffected teen he had once been. Stocky and strong, with unlovely facial features and his dark hair shorn to a crewcut, he was still wearing his trademark, battered old leather jacket despite the heat. He was walking towards the tunnel that led out to the Naples road with an accustomed scowl on his face, showing little interest in the relaxed buzz of life that surrounded him.

“Ciao, Enzo,” Daniele ventured as the young man passed.

Enzo stopped, seeming to notice them for the first time.

“Oh,” he grunted. “Ciao.”

“Ah…” Daniele faltered, “how are you?”

“Peachy,” Enzo growled.

Daniele’s brow knotted slightly. Enzo had never been a sparkling conversationalist, but today he seemed even more curt than usual.

“I thought you’d be running the garage?” he ventured.

Following a violent bust-up with his abusive father, Enzo had taken over running the only petrol station in the centre of town.

“Hired someone, didn’t I?” Enzo replied. “Guy called Antonio.”

Daniele’s heart plunged in horror, and he reached automatically for Giacomo. The other boy, whose mouth had also fallen open in dismay, turned to Daniele in surprise as he felt him fumbling for his arm.

At the sight of their reactions, Enzo’s lip curled in something that could almost have been called a smile.

“Not that Antonio,” he went on. “He’s almost as useless, but at least it means I can get a bit of time to myself.”

Giacomo was the first one to recover his wits. “So… you just decided to go for a nice stroll in the car park?” he asked, with more than a trace of irony.

Enzo gave him a rather stony-faced look; apparently, he wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

“Do you kids want my advice?” Enzo asked him. “Best to keep your noses out of things that don’t concern you. You wouldn’t want to get them broken.”

And he walked away, bidding them farewell with a dismissive wave.

“Jesus,” Giacomo said in a low voice. “He’s always such a charmer.” He shot Daniele a smile. “You can let go of my hand now, Dani.”

Daniele released him, with a slightly shamefaced smile of his own.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Giacomo snickered and wrapped an arm around Daniele’s shoulders. “Andiamo.”

Confronted with the unexpected embrace, Daniele tried his best to go with the flow. He returned the gesture, and they dawdled towards the narrow, tree-lined street that led down towards the top of the valley road, playfully trying to knock each other off-balance.

“You let go first!”

“No, you let go first!”

“Don’t make me tickle you, Dani.”

“I can take it –”

But then they broke off again. Walking tartly up the narrow street, passing beneath the roofless ruins of ancient stone palazzo that spanned it, was an unwelcomely familiar person whom Daniele had not expected to see out in public any time soon.

To Daniele’s eyes, she still looked like an overgrown stick insect. Clutching a small, black handbag, she wore a white summer dress trimmed with black lace that entirely failed to soften her high, haughty cheekbones and hard grey eyes.

Both boys peered at her warily as she walked past. She glanced at them with just a trace of suspicion, but didn’t break her stride, and then she was gone – heading, presumably for her soulless, empty villa on the hillside below town.

“Was that…?” Giacomo ventured.

Daniele nodded. “Assunta Neri. But she never goes out…!”

Giacomo exhaled slowly. “Well… they’re all out tonight, aren’t they?”

Daniele offered a non-committal shrug. “Enzo’s okay.”

“Oh, yeah,” Giacomo replied with exaggerated sincerity. “He’s just peachy.”

Their eyes found each other, and then they both descended into nervous laughter.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Giacomo said, breaking into a run as they passed the top of the car park ramp. “Unless you need me to hold your hand again…?”

Daniele cursed quietly and gave chase.

* * *

Their secret place in the valley was concealed at the foot of the cliffs below the cathedral square, in a tucked-away spot amongst the fallen rocks and wild scrub. To reach it, you had to take a tortuous route down from the head of the valley road. For Daniele and his friends, the journey was second nature, but anyone else would have a hard time finding it.

In the warmth of the late afternoon sun, Daniele and Giacomo set off down a zig-zagging flight of concrete steps lined by low stone walls and silvery olive trees. It was a little-trodden path, used only by those few people who were mad enough to attempt the long hike up or down between Ravello and the coast, and the two boys were alone save for the wildlife. The cicadas scraped persistently among the olives, now quite close at hand. Sleek brown lizards, flecked with black and patches of blue or green, basked on the sunny concrete, shooting off into cracks in the walls when the boys got too close.

They played a game for a while, taking it in turns, seeing how close they could get to a cicada before it detected their approaching footsteps and stopped scraping. Then they would stand still for a while and, without fail, the insect would start up all over again.

“Awesome, Dani!” Giacomo exclaimed, hurrying over as Daniele turned round, triumphant, with one of the large brown insects clutched gently in his hand. The dark-eyed boy took Daniele’s hand in his, extending a curious finger towards the creature, but then it took flight, and they both ducked aside as it blundered up between their faces, seeking a higher perch.

Their eyes flicked towards each other for a moment, then they both uttered another nervous laugh and separated again, hitching their school bags back onto their shoulders and retrieving the shopping from where they had left it the side of the path.

This is weird. We’re sort of… acting the same.

They continued on their way. The patched and broken steps touched down on a more gently sloping path that traversed the side of the valley, parallel to the main road down to the coast, where the olive trees gave way to wild scrub. They followed this for a while then, just before the path could force them out onto the road itself, they veered off onto an informal, earthen trail leading up towards the cliffs, darting between young chestnut trees and dry undergrowth.

Their meeting place was a small clearing, where three large logs, cut from fallen trees, were arranged around an improvised fire pit ringed with small rocks. It had just been two logs, once, but as the group of friends had grown, so had the space they needed.

Two of the logs were carefully propped up to serve as comfortable, level benches. The ground was littered with small stones ideal for throwing and, on the third log, three old glass bottles stood lined up for target practice. Suddenly, Daniele understood why Giacomo had insisted on buying the bottled cola in Salvatore’s store. With more friends, they would need more targets.

Daniele and Giacomo sat down together on the shorter of the two log benches, stashing their school bags behind it.

“I thought the others would be here by now,” Daniele said, setting the bag of treats down on the dry earth next to him. “Weren’t they coming straight from school?”

Giacomo shrugged and lifted two bottles out of the cardboard carry crate they had come in. Rootling around between the log and the school bags for a moment, he fished out a slightly rusty bottle opener and popped the caps open, offering the first one to Daniele.

Daniele took it from him, feeling a predictable flutter in his chest as their fingers brushed together. Somehow, being alone with his friend always seemed to make the slightest of touches feel more significant, and they had already had so much unexpected contact since leaving school this afternoon that he was full of nervous energy.

“Mmm, warm cola,” he remarked, sampling the sickly beverage with a dubious smile.

Giacomo snickered. “Sorry. The fridge isn’t being delivered until next week.”

“What if they’ve decided to bail out?” Daniele wondered, casting his eyes aimlessly about the clearing.

Giacomo shook his head. “Of course they’re coming. Do you really think Marco would miss the chance to hang out with you?”

Daniele glanced at him with a faint frown. “There’s nothing going on between Marco and me.”

“I know,” Giacomo replied, “but that’s never going to stop him hoping.” He glanced away and took a sip from his drink, seeming distracted for a moment. “Do you ever miss being younger?”

Daniele shook his head, surprised by the change of subject. “I don’t think so. Younger me didn’t have any friends.”

Giacomo’s dark eyes flicked back towards him, and for a moment they seemed to stare deeper inside him than usual. Feeling scrutinised, Daniele shifted a little uncomfortably on his seat.

“Why was that, Dani?” Giacomo asked. “I mean, I know the rest of us didn’t make you feel that welcome at first, but… you’ve never really talked about it.”

Realising he couldn’t hope to avoid the question, Daniele thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain himself.

“Did you ever get so used to something sad that you stopped trying to change it?” he said.

Giacomo chewed a fingernail thoughtfully.

“My dad leaving, I guess,” he said at length.

Daniele shrugged. “There you go, then. The other boys always found me too different. I was the weird blond kid who wears pink and thinks about feelings. So, while they were all off playing football, I sat in the corner making up stories.”

Giacomo shifted a little closer to him. “Yeah, well, I don’t care what you wear. And at least you have feelings, not like some of those idiots at school.” He gave an embarrassed snicker. “Besides, pink suits you.”

“Thanks.” Daniele mumbled. He felt a flush rising to his cheeks, and he turned away for a moment, hoping the other boy wouldn’t notice. He jumped slightly as he felt the other boy’s hand on his arm.

“Dani…?” Giacomo began uncertainly, but then he broke off. They both looked up as they picked out the sound of voices and footfalls crunching through the dry grass and last year’s fallen twigs; it sounded like the others had finally arrived. Whatever the other boy had been about to ask him, the moment was lost.

* * *

Marco led the way into the clearing, followed by Emilia, who had Luca by the hand. They perched together on the second log; Marco slid onto the nearest spot, favouring Daniele with another brief glimpse of his shy new smile.

“Where’d you guys get to?” Daniele asked.

“We dropped our school things off at my place first,” Marco replied.

Daniele smiled slightly. He doubted anyone else had noticed, but the mousy-haired boy had said ‘my place’ with more pride than he ever had when he was still living with his birth parents.

“Ciao, Luca,” Giacomo said. “Welcome to our clubhouse.”

The new arrival ran a hand through his wavy brown hair and cast his green eyes skywards, admiring the grey-gold cliff that towered above them and the privacy provided by the dense scrub that surrounded them. It seemed to Daniele that he liked what he saw.

“Hey, this is cool,” Luca said. “We could get up to anything down here and nobody would notice. I totally get all the secrecy now.”

Emilia scowled slightly. “We don’t come down here just to misbehave, Luca.”

Giacomo smirked. “Unless you count hurling stones at bottles.” He cracked open three more drinks and began to pass them round.

“Thanks for trusting me with this place,” Luca went on. “I mean, Marco was talking about blindfolding me…”

There was scattered laughter, during which the mousy-haired boy had the good grace to look a little embarrassed.

“I was just kidding,” he mumbled.

“Hey, are those the snacks?” Luca asked, his eyes settling hungrily on the carrier bag next to Daniele’s seat.

“Help yourself.” Daniele passed the bag to him, trying to remember when, exactly, the newcomer had become a central part of the group. It had happened so gradually that he hadn’t even noticed. Now, he realised just how little most of them still knew about their new friend. Luca was adopted – Daniele had learned that much at Emilia’s birthday party before Christmas – but the rest was a mystery.

“Yes,” Luca exclaimed, peering with satisfaction into the bag of snack food. He fished out the pack of cheese portions, took one and passed it on. “Let’s start with the savouries, shall we?”

“Where are you from, Luca?” Daniele asked. He had been struck, before, by the other boy’s vivid green eyes and fine bone structure and wondered how he had come by it.

Luca gave him a look that was half amused, half guarded.

“Is this the part of my initiation where I have to answer twenty questions?” he remarked.

Daniele said nothing, ready to back down if he had upset the other boy, but Luca capitulated.

“Naples, originally,” he went on. “Mamma and Papà adopted me when I was six.”

“Your eyes…” Daniele went on, gesturing vaguely at his own.

Luca nodded. “I get my looks from my birth mum,” he said. He shrugged. “My old family wasn’t good for much else.” He paused, taking in Daniele’s own unusual colouring. “You must be from the north, I guess.”

Daniele nodded. “Milan.”

“So, how’d you end up down here?” Luca asked.

“My parents moved to Ravello for work.”

The green-eyed boy made a neutral gesture. “See? We’re not that different. We’ve both had to leave our old worlds behind to come here.”

Giacomo grinned. “Plus, you’ve both kissed Emilia.”

Daniele and Emilia both choked on their Coca-Cola, while the green-eyed boy gaped at them both in surprise. Out of the corner of his eye, Daniele caught Marco snickering in spite of himself.

“Dani,” Emilia gasped, with a brave attempt at a dignified air, “punch Giacomo for me, would you, please?”

Daniele socked the dark-eyed boy in the soft tissues of his upper arm as hard as he dared. Giacomo winced, mouthing a silent ‘ow’ at him with a look that was both amused and reproachful. In a familiar gesture of perverse affection, he licked a finger and shoved it into Daniele’s ear.

“Eew!” Daniele spluttered. A brief but intense wrestling match followed, which only ended when Giacomo succeeded in pinning both Daniele’s arms to his sides.

“Giurin giurello,” the dark-eyed boy whispered, temporarily sending Daniele’s mind spinning back several months. Conceding defeat, he relaxed his body until the other boy let go. Before Daniele could recover his wits, Giacomo reached for him once more and began to brush his rumpled t-shirt down in an infuriatingly ticklish way that had him squirming all over again.

“Quit it!” Daniele panted desperately, brushing the other boy’s hands away.

“Well… I can see I have nothing to worry about now,” Luca remarked, watching them both intently as Giacomo withdrew with a snicker.

Flushing slightly, Daniele shifted away from the other boy and unwrapped his cheese portion. Marco and Giacomo exchanged another of their slightly suspicious glances, then Marco cast his cool grey gaze in Luca’s direction for a moment.

“Aren’t you just so glad you came?” he asked wearily.

Luca smirked. “Hey, don’t knock it. I’m finding this all very interesting.”

* * *

The evening ran its course once the snacks had run out and they had all tested their mettle against the new cola bottles. Time after time, the five empty bottles were knocked down, falling safely into the dirt. Emilia and Marco had the greatest precision, which more than made up for Daniele, Giacomo and Luca’s greater power.

They learned a little more about their new friend. He had moved to Ravello in the autumn with his adopted parents, a kindly couple called Mario and Luisa Verdi, and they had taken one of the houses on the slopes of Monte Brusara, a tree-crowned peak in the upper reaches of the Valle del Dragone that looked down over both Ravello and Scala. Shortly before he had transferred to their school, he had run into Emilia, who lived in nearby San Martino, in the street. They had taken a liking to each other at once and had proceeded to bond over a shared love of natural history, something Emilia linked to her interest in medicine. Emilia’s ambitious parents, Roberto and Monica Roccia, approved of her choice of boyfriend as they thought he had the potential to go places in life.

“Although… you wouldn’t know it to look at him now,” Emilia remarked.

Luca took her jibe with an amused smile. “You say the nicest things, ’milia.”

When the time came to go home, they got up together, gathering up their rubbish, and Daniele prepared to say goodbye. While the others headed back up towards town, he would be walking back a different way, following an old path that wound around the side of the valley until it eventually opened up into the seaward slopes closer to his home.

Marco sidled up to him as he was stuffing biscuit wrappers back into the carrier bag.

“See you tomorrow, Dani?” he said.

Daniele nodded. “Ten o’clock, at mine.”

“What’s happening tomorrow?” Giacomo asked, his dark eyes curious and watchful.

“My parents are taking us to Salerno to buy new outfits for the disco,” Daniele explained.

Giacomo looked disappointed. “Oh, fair enough. See you on Sunday, then?”

Daniele smiled. “Count on it.”

They parted ways. Giacomo looked indecisive for a moment, as if he would have preferred to split off from the others and walk with Daniele instead, but then he turned and followed his other friends.

Following the ancient, earthen path amidst the cicadas and beady-eyed lizards, Daniele walked alone through chestnut woods, lemon orchards and olive groves, thinking about his best friend’s puzzling behaviour and wondering.

What was Giaco about to ask me?

* * *

Daniele rose early the next morning to the receding glow of intense dreams that he couldn’t quite remember, and threw his shutters and windows open onto the first morning of the summer. No matter what jokes Luca made about him, he had always been a morning person.

The sky was as clear as he had expected, and the distant sea was a sparkling blue. Dressed in just the pyjama shorts he had slept in, Daniele basked in the sun for a moment, feeling the warmth of it on his bare shoulders. In the olive groves down the hill, the cicadas were already hard at work and, as Daniele watched, a pair of swifts shot across the skies, uttering their shrill hunting cries. He smiled openly for a moment, truly in his element.

I wish I could fly like that.

Toto and Michele would have understood what he meant. As children, they had often wished that they could take to the skies and fly off together.

Condemned by reality to keep his two feet on the ground, Daniele sighed slightly. If only school could have finished already; but there was still one more week to go, with the final exams and the dreaded disco yet to come.

Still, it would all be over soon.

Daniele had showered the night before, so he wandered through to the bathroom for a quick wash and a squirt of deodorant, then he returned to his bedroom and appraised his collection of tie-dye t-shirts. He was feeling in the mood for another classic today, so he grabbed the lavender-coloured one that had always been one of his favourites and pulled it over his head, pausing for just long enough to brush his mop of blond hair back into place.

His parents were already up, nursing coffees and reading yesterday’s papers, as he wandered through to the kitchen diner.

“Buongiorno, champ,” Paolo said as he joined them at the table. “Ready to freshen up your wardrobe?”

Daniele nodded, reaching for a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice and pouring himself a glass. “Is Marco bringing some money?”

He didn’t want his parents to splash the cash in front of Marco if the other boy was likely to be short.

“Gianni’s already sent some to me,” Patrizia replied. “There’s enough for a decent outfit for the disco and a few other bits, as well.”

Daniele nodded. “Cool.”

“Perhaps you could get matching outfits?” Paolo teased. “That’d fox the others.”

“Ah, c’mon, Papà,” Daniele protested. “We’re not a couple!”

Patrizia smiled. “It’s just, you seem so alike sometimes. It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?” Daniele repeated, doing his best to sound offended.

Paolo chuckled. “Fourteen-year-old faux pas, Patrizia.”

Patrizia rose from her seat and swooped down to embrace Daniele, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“I don’t care,” she told her husband. “He’s sweet to me.”

Daniele batted at her arms in an ineffectual gesture of protest; in truth, he couldn’t quite keep himself from smiling.

* * *

Marco turned up ten minutes early, announcing his presence with a short text message to Daniele’s phone.

‘I’m outside.’

Apparently, ringing the doorbell was too daunting a prospect.

‘Ok.’

Daniele hurriedly shut down his laptop and laced up his trainers.

“He’s here,” he told his parents, briefly poking his head around the door of the kitchen diner.

“Oh, my goodness!” Patrizia exclaimed. She appeared to be halfway through tidying a cupboard-full of pastry ingredients, while Paolo was busy with the rest of the cleaning. “We’ll be right there.”

Left alone to greet their visitor, Daniele stepped out into the bright morning sun and unlocked the front gate.

“Ciao, Dani.”

Marco was standing out in the road, looking a little nervous. He had clearly made an effort over his appearance this morning; he had even run a hairbrush through his mousy brown hair. Daniele was glad to see it; self-image had never been Marco’s strong point.

In fact, everything about the smaller boy was better presented than he used to be. No longer made to survive on old, worn-out things, he had taken steps to develop his own style, and he stood before Daniele in dark grey skinny jeans and a slim-fit, blue checked shirt tucked in at the waist. His look was neat and tidy, not laid-back and trendy like Giacomo’s, but it suited him.

Daniele paused, weighing up what to say. Too much enthusiasm was apt to be misinterpreted, but he was always keen to boost his friend’s confidence where he could.

He decided to keep it simple. “You look great.”

“Thanks.” Marco offered him a shy smile. “You look… like Dani.”

The smaller boy flushed a little. Perhaps it was just own awkwardness that had embarrassed him but, all the same, Daniele was glad when his parents chose that moment to step out of the house. Seeing Marco so obviously discomfited around him always brought their own brief history back into focus: an unexpected kiss, in the darkness of a summer storm. It had gone no further, but sometimes…

“Ciao, Marco,” Patrizia said apologetically, locking the front door as Paolo rootled in his pocket for the car keys. “We’re ready for you now.”

“Buongiorno,” Marco replied.

Paolo ushered them all to his taxi, which was parked a short distance down the street, and then they were on their way, climbing up the zig-zagging road that led towards town.

The car swept through the main road tunnel, and they began their descent to the coast. Daniele and Marco sat together in companionable silence, staring out at the scenery as the terraces and cliffs of the Valle del Dragone rose around them. In the front, Paolo had the radio on low, and was humming along slightly tunelessly as he drove.

The city of Salerno was about an hour’s drive, all told, most of it along the winding road that connected all the old villages along the coast. They meandered in and out of the coves and valleys, never far from the bright blue sea. After a while, as he watched his friend staring out of the window, a stray thought tickled Daniele’s fancy and he found himself giggling quietly to himself.

“What?” Marco asked, glancing slightly anxiously at Daniele, as if worried he were being laughed at.

“Nothing,” Daniele replied. “It’s just… if you’d told me a year ago that we’d be spending the day shopping together…”

Marco smiled slightly. “If you’d told me, I’d have scratched your eyes out.”

“Oh!” Patrizia gasped from the front passenger seat. “What a horrible image.”

“You should see Marco when he gets his bloodlust on, Mamma,” Daniele replied. “He’s like a wild animal.”

Daniele’s blue eyes met Marco’s cool grey ones, and they both giggled.

Hanging out with Marco was easier than hanging out with Giacomo, somehow. The nervous energy that the dark-eyed boy brought out in him could be exhausting. With Marco, Daniele felt more in control of himself and his body. Every so often, as he had that morning, he would suddenly find the smaller boy hanging off his every word, but usually their relationship felt a little less fraught.

He wondered which of his two best friends he would turn to if he ever had a really serious problem that he wanted to talk about.

It’d be Marco, wouldn’t it…?

Why was that?

Salerno was a busy, working harbour city. It was less picturesque than Ravello or its coastal neighbours, but it gave a good impression of itself all the same, with a proud frontage of imposing old buildings facing out onto a broad, tree-lined promenade. When they eventually pulled into the car park on the seafront, Daniele was glad to hop out and stretch his legs, even though the heat of the late morning sun was a shock after the cool of the air-conditioned taxi.

Most of the major shops were laid out along a long, straight avenue a couple of streets back from the waterfront. They trailed into town together, then Patrizia and Paolo unleashed Daniele and Marco on a large clothing store, promising to return with the money once they had had time to choose what they wanted. Paolo exchanged an enquiring glance with a sales assistant, who nodded to show that he understood, and that the boys were to be given full license to try on whatever they wanted.

Left alone, the two boys were free to explore and talk.

“Do you really want to go to this disco?” Daniele asked, as they riffled through different types of jackets. They weren’t sure whether to go fully smart, or smart casual.

Marco shook his head. “No, but what good would it do not to go?” He shrugged. “I’d rather sit on the sidelines with my friends than sit around at home.”

Daniele laughed. “So, we’re getting fancy new clothes just to sit around in?”

Marco shrugged. “We can use them again.”

Daniele grinned. “How many fancy parties are you planning to go to this summer, Marco?”

“More than you,” Marco said idly, then he shot him a quick smile to show he was teasing.

They moved onto the shirts and t-shirts. Spotting a tie-dye t-shirt with a swirl of pastel blue, yellow and green, Daniele nabbed it at once, not for the disco, but for his general collection. Browsing through a few more hangers, his eye was caught by a long-sleeved, slim-fit t-shirt in mid-grey, which he offered to his friend.

“Why don’t you try this on?” he suggested, holding it up against Marco’s chest.

Marco gave him a troubled look. Taking the t-shirt from Daniele, he lowered it to his side.

“Don’t try to turn me into Giaco,” he said.

Daniele frowned. “I… huh?”

“This…” Marco returned the item to the peg, apparently glad of the excuse to look away from him for a moment. “It’s not my style.”

Embarrassed, Daniele shoved his hands into his pockets, the new tie-dye t-shirt dangling carelessly from one arm. “Sorry… I just thought it would suit you.”

Marco shrugged. “No worries.” He gave Daniele a sideways look, still not quite managing to face him. “You two seem pretty, I dunno… tight, lately.”

Daniele flushed slightly. “Yeah, I… I’m not sure what’s going on, exactly.”

“I’m happy for you, I guess,” Marco mumbled, but he was still looking away. From the way the smaller boy was chewing his top lip, Daniele sensed that there were things he wanted to say but was holding back.

What aren’t you telling me?

Unexpectedly, Marco plucked a smart white shirt from a peg and thrust it into Daniele’s hands.

“Wear this with a pair of dark trousers,” he said abruptly. “That’s all you need. You’ll kill it.”

“Thanks,” Daniele said in surprise. “What about you?”

Marco reached up and adjusted his shirt in a determined sort of way.

“I’m going to get a tux.”

Daniele grinned. “That sounds totally James Bond.”

Marco nodded. “I need all the help I can get.”